


that's what this storm's all about

by spndrea



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Continuation, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Lost in your Orbit AU, Love Me Right AU, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Indulgent, no beta reader we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 22:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15034778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spndrea/pseuds/spndrea
Summary: Sehun doesn’t know whether he should be surprised or not in the least upon seeing the familiar figure balancing on the window sill, one hand resting against the glass with and open palm and the other holding onto a twig of the tree.





	that's what this storm's all about

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lost In Your Orbit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434302) by [sunveined (SlimeQueen)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeQueen/pseuds/sunveined). 



Sehun wakes up groggy and confused. A glance at the clock through sleep crusted eyes tells him it’s the middle of the night and he’s about to shove his face back into the pillow and try to catch another couple of hours of sleep when he hears it; a soft, unmistakable noise he hasn't heard in months, one that resonates with the skip of his pulse.

A knock at the window.

Sehun’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest, and he takes a good two minutes before he even turns his head from where it had been facing the wall but ultimately moves his body to sit up, still confused for a moment by the emptiness of his room after he turned on the bedside lamp.

He glances towards the window while he walks towards it, legs shaking and knees buckling while he tries to control his raging heart. He pulled the curtains aside in a shaky movement, silently wondering when exactly he’d started completely closing them again.

Sehun doesn’t know whether he should be surprised or not in the least upon seeing the familiar figure balancing on the window sill, one hand resting against the glass with and open palm and the other holding onto a twig of the tree.

Still, what Sehun does know, is the shot his chest seems to receive once Jongin’s face is illuminated by the orange hue left by the lamp, and he also knows that he doesn’t need to think twice, doesn’t even need to think _at all,_ before his stuttering fingers struggle to turn open the lock of the window. It unlocks with the same sound – a kind of awful _crack_ in the equally as awful silent house – as it did all those uncountable other times Jongin had come in like this, depending on Sehun to slide his window open and let him jump in with that matchless grace of his.

And if it weren’t for the undoubted fact that Sehun hadn’t seen Jongin in _months,_ it probably would’ve just been one of those _other times,_ with how Jongin moved oh so familiar into Sehun’s room before he even opened the window all the way.

Sehun took a step back, and Jongin stayed right in front of the window where he had just stepped in, unmoving, cautious, so cautious.

Sehun let himself take in Jongin’s form; his hair was longer, dark roots showing and contrasting the otherwise bright color. He looked good, dark circles under his eyes less apparent than how they were that last night he’d slept over at Sehun’s. His cheeks held a new pinkish tint, the hollows of his face no longer as defined. Jongin still seemed to wear the same studded leather jacket as he did the very first time Sehun had seen him, and his body still looked the same, all lean muscle and bronze skin. Sehun quietly wondered if he would still feel the same, or taste the same, too.

Jongin’s raspy voice made his eyes snap back into focus. “I told you I’d be back,” he said, and Sehun couldn’t hold back the incredulous laugh leaving his mouth.

“Well,” Sehun started before having to clear his throat, voice breaking at the end, “you didn’t tell me anything, really.”

Jongin’s wince was nearly satisfying to Sehun. “Sehun, I’m sorry, but you have to understand-“

“And I do,” Sehun said, voice softer than he himself expected, “I understand, Jongin. I’m not mad at you.”

Sehun took a couple steps forward until his chest was nearly touching Jongin’s.

“Fuck,” Jongin breathed, the scent of his cologne and the cheap tobacco filling Sehun’s nose, nearly making him dizzy. “Sehun, I missed you so much, God.” Jongin moved his hand, cradling Sehun’s cheek softly, so softly.

The feeling of Jongin’s calloused hand against his cheek, his scent clouding each of Sehun’s senses, the strands of hair tickling his forehead from where they were falling out of place on Jongin’s head, made Sehun want to slap himself for ever believing that he was getting over Kim Jongin.

There was a voice in the back of his head, the same he’d heard all those months ago, telling him that there was no one else but Jongin for him. No one to make him feel as if he couldn’t breathe in the best way possible, no one to make every sliver of skin he touched tingle with left-over warmth. No one to make Sehun feel so utterly free, so completely in control but yet also wholly given-over. Given-over to the hands of Kim Jongin.

Sehun felt Jongin’s thumb start to stroke his cheekbone, making Sehun lean in to the soft touch. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to wake up if this turns out to be just another one of those dreams. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes again, half expecting to see Jongin disappearing into thin air, but he was still right there, dark eyes fixed on Sehun’s, breaths coming slow through his slightly opened mouth.

“You’re back,” Sehun breathed, so quietly Jongin would’ve had problems hearing it had he not been sharing the same air as Sehun, “You’re here.”

Jongin nodded, a fast jerk of his head, up down. “I’m here.” He smiled, light and easy, and Sehun didn’t want to blink, didn’t want to risk missing any change in the other’s expression.

Part of him wanted to keep asking questions. _Why? When? How long?_ But another, bigger part of him than to _feel_ Jongin again, feel as if he had never left.

Sehun knew that was impossible, but if this wasn’t a dream, he was going to _let_ himself dream.

Sehun crossed the last distance between their lips, angling his head to the left and watching as Jongin’s eyes fell closed and his mouth lifted up slightly in a smile.

Their lips touched, and Sehun nearly cried when he felt the familiar feeling he’d been shoving to the back of his mind resurfaced with an intensity he could hardly bear. The kiss was soft before it turned into something solely lead by passion, Sehun’s hand coming to rest in the back of Jongin’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer, and when he felt Jongin’s tongue graze against his lower lip, he couldn’t suppress the gasp that left his lips.

Their tongues moved together as if nothing had changed, as if not a day had gone by where Sehun hadn’t kissed Jongin, and Sehun desperately hoped he could feel like that, too.

Jongin moved forward from where he was still standing with his back towards the open window, and Sehun followed his lead until he felt his legs hit the bed. He felt his crumpled sheets under his back and Jongin’s warm chest over him, his arms supporting his weight next to Sehun’s head as their kiss turned lazy, tongues slowly sliding against each other, lips moving in a pace that made Sehun feel as if they had all the time in the world.

Jongin backed off after another few moments, lifting his head slightly to look at Sehun comfortably. Sehun licked his lips unconsciously, chasing the familiar taste Jongin has left on his mouth.

Jongin’s mouth opened before closing again, kiss-bruised lips moving around words that seemingly wouldn’t come, and Sehun smiled up at him while letting his hand grab Jongin’s waist softly, the gesture making him drop his head down to rest against the juncture of his neck, his hot breath hitting the skin there and leaving Sehun shivering.

Jongin rolled off him eventually, grabbing Sehun’s hand and sliding up the bed to rest against the headboard. Sehun rests his head on his shoulder, letting the simple sound of Jongin’s breathing fill the quiet air around them.

It was sudden and nearly made Sehun jump when Jongin cleared his throat slightly, the sound seeming too harsh in the silence, cutting through it like a knife would. “Your room’s empty,” he stated, his eyes darting around.

“Yeah,” Sehun replied, his body heaving slightly with a sigh, “I’m leaving for college in a week with Chanyeol and Baekhyun.”

“Oh,” Jongin just said, and the word seemed to have more meaning than Sehun wanted to comprehend. “I chose the perfect time to come back, huh?”

Sehun snorted a bit, lifting his head from Jongin’s shoulder to look at him. “Do you,” Sehun licked his lips, swallowing to lessen the dryness in his throat, “Do you plan on staying for good?”

Sehun was partially scared of the answer. _Uptight,_ Jongin’s voice from when he had first stumbled through his window mocked him.

“I didn’t spend my last money on the four trains I had to take to get here just to leave again,” Jongin answered, and Sehun could finally take a deep breath. “Except if you want me to,” he continued, though his voice was lowered in a barely comprehensible mumble.

“No,” Sehun said, maybe a bit too fast, “Stay. Please.”

Jongin smiled, the same small uplift of his lips he wore when they used to walk back from Wonderland, before moving forward and catching Sehun’s lips in a chaste kiss again, broken before Sehun could even really reciprocate.

Jongin fumbled with something behind him, and Sehun was about to ask what he was doing when the light in the room went out, basking everything in darkness, the only source of light being the moon shining through the still-opened window.

It’s crazy, Sehun thinks, how a few hours earlier he lay in his bed, alone and trying to convince himself that not having Jongin by his side was something he could get over. Sehun also wonders if Jongin is now also part of his plan, or if he’s ever really _stopped_ being part of it.

Sehun catches the silhouette of the cheap pack of cigarettes resting on his desk in the darkness, and he reminds himself to smoke one of the stale sticks with Jongin again sometime, this time without coughing his lungs out. He’s long since gotten used to the slow burn the smoke brought with it when it travelled down into his lungs.

For now, though, he lets himself be held against Jongin’s chest, face buried in his neck, every breath fanning against the strands of Jongin’s hair, and revels in the slow deepening of Jongin’s breaths until Sehun can’t fight unconsciousness tugging at the edges of his mind.

 

When Sehun woke up in the morning, he would have been convinced that he had actually dreamt the whole thing had it not been for the lingering scent of faint cologne and cheap tobacco paired with the opened curtains flowing softly with the wind flowing in through the window.

Sehun smiled, righting himself up and frowning slightly when he saw a small post-it note resting on his bedside table.

A sense of dread and an awful feeling of déja-vu hit him in the chest, and Sehun had the urge to just turn the paper around without reading what was undeniably written on it. He knew, though, that ignoring something to the point of no return won’t solve anything, so he reached over and let his eyes fly over the paper, heaving a deep sigh when he saw only a couple of numbers sloppily written down, the graphite of the pencil smeared slightly.

He grabbed his phone from where it was plugged in to charge, ignoring the notifications and going through his contacts. He scrolled down fast until he reached the name that stood out with the obnoxious hearts in front of _‘Jonginnie’,_ tapping to edit the number assigned to the contact to the one written down on the post-it.

Sehun stared at the blank chat for way too long before he simply typed a ‘ _Hey, where are you?’_ before getting up from the bed and walking into the kitchen, Junmyeon already working on some scrambled eggs.

“Hey,” Junmyeon chirped, smile settled firmly on his face, “How are you doing?”

Sehun hummed, sitting down at the kitchen table and taking a sip of the orange juice Junmyeon set down in front of him, listening to the other hum to the tune playing softly from the radio.

 

That evening, when he’s sitting at the dinner table with his parents and some guests he doesn’t know the names of, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, making him pay even less attention to whatever political stuff they’ve been ranting about for the past hour in favor of sneakily glancing at his phone under the table. He had to fight the urge to grin when he saw Jongin’s answer to his message from this morning, the ominous _‘Come to your room and find out’_ making him huff a laugh, quickly attempting to cover the sound with a faked cough.

He searched his brain for some appropriate excuse to give to his parents, settling on a lame, “I still got some packing to do,” before he stood up, not giving his parents time to ask or object any more.

Opening the door to his room, he was greeted by Jongin sitting on his desk, his fingers brushing over the different college acceptation letters Sehun hadn’t stored away yet.

Sehun closed the door, walking towards Jongin until he stood in front of him.

“What college are you going to?” He asked, still looking through the papers stacked on top of the desk.

“Uh, here,” Sehun reached for the one on a different stack, handing Jongin the letter, “it’s the same Chanyeol will go to. He’s gonna move in with Baek, so I guess I’m gonna get the full dorm experience.” Sehun laughed slightly, watching Jongin as he read the letter.

“You’re still gonna… be here, right?” Jongin asked then, and there was something in his eyes Sehun could dimly recognize as the vulnerability he wore when Sehun had come to pick him up at the hospital that one night.

Sehun chuckled lightly, taking the letter from Jongin’s hand, lacing their fingers together instead. “I’m not going off to war, Jongin. It’s just college, I have an apartment just in the city.”

Jongin smiled, squeezing Sehun’s fingers between his. “Do you wanna go out? The others kinda don’t know I’m back yet,” he asked after a while, making Jongin look at him incredulously.

“You haven’t told _anyone_? What were you doing the whole day?”

Jongin moved his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “I visited my mom, helped her around the house. She’s better now, I think me being gone and her not having to look after me did her well. She dropped her job at the restaurant, so that’s something.”

Sehun smiled back at Jongin before backing away a few steps, though not letting go of Jongin’s hand. “Well then, let’s go,” he said, and Jongin jumped off the desk and walked toward the open window.

 

They take longer to get to Wonderland than usual, Jongin letting his eyes rake over every dirty alley they slip through and every memorable spot they come across, asking Sehun multiple times, “Remember when we…,” and Sehun would always nod his head before pulling Jongin along, indulging in the quiet air and the warm grip of Jongin’s hand.

Once they step into the shop, Sehun can already hear Baekhyun loudly trying to talk over Jongdae, and Sehun feels a smile creep on his face. He looks behind him and sees Jongin in the same state.

Baekhyun is the first to spot them standing next to the bar, cutting himself off in the middle of his sentence, making Jongdae stare at him confused.

“Holy Fuck,” Baekhyun then breathes before walking over to them, making Jongdae finally turn around.

“What the fuck, Jongin!” He exclaims, hopping off the bar stool to nearly run toward them and knocking Jongin slightly off balance with the force of his hug. Baekhyun gets in there, too, hugging Jongin from behind so tightly Sehun can see Jongin struggle to breathe. He laughs when Jongin gasps breathlessly once they pull away, though they’re immediately dragged to the back with enthusiastic exclaims of, “everyone’s here tonight! God, Jongin, what the fuck, come on!”

Jongdae opens the door with more force than necessary, Sehun already hearing Minseok’s complaint at the harsh sound, but everything falls eerily silent once Jongin steps into the room, hand still tightly clasped by Sehun’s.

Chanyeol is the first to get up from the couch, eyes wider than usual and mouth agape slightly. It takes him some time to form a sentence, it seems, but he eventually settles on a breathy, “Oh, you motherfucker, come here,” before dragging Jongin into a tight hug, clapping his back a few times before pulling back.

Sehun lets go of Jongin’s hand so he can greet everyone with loving hugs, and Sehun’s amazed to see no one even slightly mad or disappointed, eyes only filled with relief and understanding and familiarity.

“You’re back? Like, completely? Not just a quick trip?” Zitao asks once they’ve all settled down again, Sehun resting on the couch next to Jongin, his waist comfortingly warm by the hand resting there.

“I’m back. Completely,” Jongin answered, and Sehun felt his heart soar.

Lu Han shoved him with his foot from where he was sitting on the floor with his back resting against the table, grin playing easily on his face as his dainty fingers held the Blunt out to Jongin. “You deserve it. I don’t wanna know how long you’ve gone without it.”

Jongin’s thankful expression was enough of an answer, his fingers taking the Blunt and putting it between his lips before inhaling deeply, letting the smoke pool in his lungs.

Sehun watched, eyes darting from Jongin’s form to everyone else. It seemed so natural, as if Jongin had never been gone; Yixing and Zitao lazily talking in slurred Mandarin, Chanyeol and Baekhyun giggling about something that was probably only ever funny to them, Minseok and Lu Han working together to roll another Joint with Jongdae absentmindedly tuning in and out of their conversation.

And then there was Jongin, who was already looking at him when Sehun turned to him again, gesturing for him to come closer. Sehun’s mind clicked in understanding, shuffling closer to Jongin until he could no longer focus on the blurry image of his face, settling on closing his eyes and parting his lips.

He expected the warm smoke that was breathed into his mouth and the soft lips that merely brushed against his own. He inhaled deeply, the earthy scent already clouding his mind. With a last firm push of Jongin’s lips against Sehun’s own, he pulled away, leaving Sehun to exhale the smoke into the foggy room before he opened his eyes again. Their faces were still close, so close, and Sehun could feel warm breaths fanning across his cheek and smell Jongin’s cologne faintly but still so clearly it was nearly overwhelming.

It was then that Sehun realized that he will never really get over Kim Jongin, will never spend a day _not_ craving the bittersweet scent of awfully cheap tobacco, but with Kim Jongin breathing three simple words into the air between them, Sehun also realizes that he doesn’t want to get over him.

Sehun breathes the words back without thinking about it once, and it feels like Jongin has _always_ been part of his plan.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is what my mind made up as a continuation of the [incredible story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434302) "Lost In Your Orbit" by SlimeQueen! If you haven't read that masterpiece already, I recommend it with every fiber of my being, it's truly an amazing story.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> Scream at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nsftaemin) if you want!


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